


How I Met Your Father

by eexiee



Series: How I Met Your Father [1]
Category: EXO (Band), Super Junior-M, f(x)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Family, Brief homophobia, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7240228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eexiee/pseuds/eexiee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the span of seven years, Yifan tells his children his love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How I Met Your Father

**Author's Note:**

> This encompasses the entire family!au story, so this part can really be read at any point in the series. Chronologically the first flashback takes place in 2007 and the ending takes place in 2038.

Yifan was running late one evening. He’d stayed at the office for a long time trying to work things out with his uncooperative coworkers, and before he knew it, it was almost nine o’clock. He excused himself, absolutely refusing to miss saying goodnight to his children, most of whom went to bed at nine or ten.

But when Yifan got home from work that night, nobody was asleep. He could hear the TV blaring in the basement, and he figured that Minseok and Luhan were playing some video games that their younger brothers loved to watch them play.

“Joonmyeon?” Yifan called, surprised that the kids weren’t even starting to get ready for bed.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Joonmyeon called back, and Yifan followed his husband’s voice.

Zitao was sobbing at the kitchen table, piles of tissues everywhere and a half-eaten pint of ice cream sitting in front of him. Joonmyeon was talking to him in dulcet tones, rubbing his son’s back comfortingly.

“What’s wrong?” Yifan asked, setting his briefcase down and taking a seat next to his son.

“He and his…girlfriend decided to go their separate ways,” Joonmyeon said quietly, and Zitao erupted in a fresh bout of sobs.

He had a girlfriend? Yifan mouthed to his husband, and Joonmyeon shrugged, looking just as confused.

Yifan put a comforting hand on Zitao’s back as well, and he leaned towards his son.

“Did you already tell Appa what happened? Do you want to tell me?” Yifan asked. Zitao wiped his eyes, never one to pass up telling a dramatic story.

“Her…her name is Misun. We were in love, Dad. And then today at lunch, her friend Hyori told Jaesong that Misun didn’t want to go out with me anymore, because she said she didn’t want to commit herself to one person yet,” Zitao started to cry again. Joonmyeon looked at Yifan tiredly, but Yifan just squeezed his husband’s hand and turned back to Zitao.

“How long were you dating?” Yifan asked. “Maybe—”

“It was three whole weeks, Dad!” Zitao cried through his tears. “I counted. Tomorrow would have been our twenty-two day anniversary. But then…she dumped me!”

Yifan shook his head. “Are you sure Jaesong didn’t just hear something that Hyori made up?”

“I’m sure,” Zitao sniffled, “because I tried to talk to her after her home ec class, but she wouldn’t talk to me!”

Yifan sighed. “You’ll find someone better than her, Zitao. You’re a great kid, you know that?”

“Dad, we were supposed to get married,” he sobbed. Yifan almost laughed, and Joonmyeon stepped in to cover his husband.

“You’re thirteen, Zitao,” Joonmyeon said calmly. “You can’t expect to fall in love and marry someone at this age.” Zitao took another bite of ice cream and looked up at his parents sadly.

“I did, though,” Zitao sighed. “I’ll never love again.”

Yifan fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead clapped his son on the back. “Sleep on it, Zitao. Anyway, you need to get to bed. Your brothers too.” He stood up, walking over to the stairs. “Boys? Bedtime!” he called, and he could hear the collective groans of all the children as they turned off the TV.

They were clambering up the stairs when Zitao asked a very interesting question.

“When did you two fall in love?” he asked, and Yifan and Joonmyeon turned to each other. They both were a little lost for a moment.

“I’m not sure,” Joonmyeon replied. “But Zitao, really, you don’t need to worry about this. Your life has hardly started yet.”

Zitao didn’t look satisfied. “Then when did your lives start?”

“Yeah, Dad, tell us!” Luhan chimed in. All the boys were standing in the kitchen door, waiting for either of their parents to start a story.

Joonmyeon laughed, taking Yifan’s hand. “Well, this is as good of a time as any to tell them our story, right?” he prompted, and Yifan smiled at his husband.

“I guess so,” he replied. “Ok, everyone to the living room and you’ll get to hear the story of how I met your father.”

“How your life started,” Joonmyeon corrected him, but Yifan shrugged.

“Same thing,” he replied, and Joonmyeon grinned brightly.

“Dad, Appa, you are so gross,” Baekhyun sighed, but he sat down with his brothers anyway, and he looked just as eager to hear the story as the others did.

Yifan sat down and looked at each of his children for a moment before beginning dramatically.

“It was a dark and stormy night—”

“Dad,” Jongdae said, and Yifan laughed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell it for real this time.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yifan’s life started when he was eighteen. Of all things, he hadn’t expected it to start the way it did, but later on in life he supposed that people’s lives started when they least expected it.

He was sitting back on his favorite couch in their family room, watching a game of basketball on TV. It was the Rockets versus the Bucks, and Yifan was excitedly waiting for Yao Ming, his favorite Rockets player, to dunk the ball. The game was starting to get intense when his little sister Amber came home from a party at her friend Sohee’s house. She was singing some sort of tune, which meant that she was in a good mood.

He sort of registered her going into the kitchen, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl and washing it, but he was more focused on the intensity of the game—pros were so fast and precise, and he hoped maybe he could be like that someday. It took him a long time to notice that his little sister had sauntered into the room and plopped down next to her brother on the couch.

Yifan felt her gaze on him, so when the game turned back to commercials, he turned to her, and to his surprise she had a big grin on her face.

“What?” Yifan asked, putting his hands up to his own cheeks, wondering if perhaps he’d missed a spot of shaving cream that evening.

“Guess who has a boyfriend?” she asked, prompting Yifan to answer. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked back at the TV. There was an advertisement for beer on the screen, and to be honest it wasn’t very interesting, but he’d rather hear about that than the escapades of Amber and her friends.

“Not this again,” Yifan groaned. “Isn’t this Yuri’s sixth boyfriend this year?”

Amber shifted on the couch, turning to face her brother more fully. “No,” she said, “she’s still with Minho. Yifan, I have a boyfriend.”

That got Yifan’s attention easily, and he turned to his sister looking shocked. “But you just broke up with that other kid like—”

“It was three months ago, Yifan, that’s long enough. Yifan,” she said, her voice changing to a mellower timbre, “this guy is different. He’s really different.”

“Yeah?” Yifan asked sarcastically. “What, you going to marry him?”

His sister punched him on the shoulder, and for being sixteen, Amber could punch fairly hard. “I don’t know,” she replied while Yifan rubbed his sore shoulder. “Obviously I can’t say anything for sure right now, but he’s a really good guy.”

“Okay, okay,” Yifan acquiesced. “So who is this guy? Does he go to our school?”

“No, he’s, uh…he’s in college, actually,” Amber admits, and Yifan nearly chokes on the potato chips he’d just stuffed in his mouth.

“What?” he coughed.

“He’s a freshman—” she began defensively, but Yifan was having none of it.

“Yeah, so are you! In high school, Amber,” Yifan cried, traumatized. “He’s—what, a year older than me? And I’m two years older than you, and this is really weird! What will Ba and Ma say?”

“Don’t tell them, Yifan,” Amber pleaded, giving her older brother her best puppy eyes. “Please don’t tell them. I really like this guy and I don’t want to ruin stuff with him. I know you don’t like it and I definitely know Ba and Ma won’t like it, but I at least want to give myself a chance with him, you know? And besides, I never told them about your…preferences, so—”

“Amber, don’t you dare blackmail me,” Yifan warned.

“I’m just saying, Yifan, that if you expect me to keep your secrets then you should keep mine,” Amber shrugged. “I’ve covered for you so many times when you went out, and it would be awesome if I could expect the same from you.”

Yifan grumbled, but he knew he couldn’t refuse his sister’s proposal. After all, she had reacted much better than Yifan just had when she walked in on him kissing his first boyfriend two years before, and she never failed to keep his secrets and tell their parents “where he was” every once in a while.

“Fine,” he finally replied, “but please be careful, okay?”

“Thanks,” Amber smiled, hugging her brother happily. She sat back on the couch just as Yao Ming dunked the basketball, solidifying the Rockets’ lead over the Bucks. He’d missed the entire play. “And besides,” Amber added, “he’s shorter than you, so if he tries anything—which he won’t—I’m sure you can take him.”

“That’s reassuring,” Yifan replied, and he turned back to the television as well.

 

 

 

The first time Henry visited, Yifan and Amber’s parents weren’t home. It was probably a smart move on their part (even though technically they didn’t even know Henry was coming over), but Yifan wasn’t sure he wanted to be there either. He still didn’t like the idea of Amber dating a nineteen-year old, though truthfully Henry did seem nice enough. Yifan had only stayed in the house because he didn’t trust them not to fool around, but all they’d done was watch a movie and play with the cat, and that was fine.

The second, third, and fourth time Henry visited, Yifan and Amber’s parents were out again. The fourth time, Amber had asked Yifan to leave the house because she wanted to have some private time with Henry, but Yifan couldn’t find it in his conscience to leave. He wasn’t going to be a bad son at the cost of being a good brother.

By the fifth time he came over, Henry and Amber had been dating for six months, and Amber was panicking.

“Yifan,” she said, practically biting at her nails one afternoon, Henry due to arrive any minute, “should I tell Ba and Ma? What’ll they say? Will they disown me? Henry’s a music major, Yifan. They’re going to kill me, aren’t they?”

“No,” Yifan replied soothingly, but in all honesty he was fairly confident that his parents would not react well, especially given the fact that Henry was not majoring in engineering, premed, or business. Technically, Amber was not even supposed to have a boyfriend.

“Yifan, help me, please?” Amber said.

“Amber,” Yifan sighed, “what will you do if they say no? What will you do if they tell you to break up with him?”

Amber didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll keep dating him in secret, then.”

“So you’ll go against Ba and Ma’s wishes if it means staying with your boyfriend of six months?” Yifan asks, and Amber groans.

“Yifan, don’t put it like that, seriously. It’s not that I’m going against their wishes…I just really really like Henry and…”

Yifan pats her shoulder. “Okay,” he said, “okay. I’ll help you.” Yifan hoped this would get him some positive karma, and he sent a silent wish to God to send him a cute boyfriend, please.

Henry arrived promptly at five, and Yifan and Amber’s mother answered the door before Amber could get to it. Amber gulped and shot a nervous glance at Yifan.

Their mother, on the other hand, was looking Henry up and down as if he was some sort of alien.

“Uh, hello, Mrs. Wu,” Henry said slowly, and Yifan’s mother looked surprised that Henry knew her name. Yifan groaned, realizing that his mother had thought Henry was a salesman. He grabbed Amber by the upper arm and shoved her toward the door. She stumbled forward, and her mother looked at her with suspicion.

“Mama,” Amber began nervously, “uh, this is Henry. He’s my…he’s my b-boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” their mother asked, and then a smile grew on her face, and it wasn’t genuine. Yifan bit his lip. He had to help out somehow.

“Ma, Henry is really great at piano. Do you want to hear him play something?” Yifan asked, and Henry blanched but Amber looked hopeful.

“I’m not that great,” Henry chuckled modestly, but Amber shook her head.

“No, no, you’re great. Play something for Ma. I really like that Two-Part Invention that you like to play. Try it and see how it sounds!” Amber prompted, pulling Henry into the house and showing him to the piano. Henry sat down tentatively and looked at Amber, Yifan, and their mother before starting to play. Yifan thanked God that his sister’s boyfriend was a virtuoso, because despite Henry’s obvious nervousness, not a single note was played incorrectly. Their mother was impressed.

“Very nice,” their mother said.

“Thank you,” Henry said politely. He stood, but Yifan’s mother prompted him to sit.

“So, Henry,” she said, “are you Amber’s classmate?”

“Uh,” Henry stuttered, looking at Amber to see how to respond. Amber looked lost, so once again Yifan stepped in.

“Henry’s a freshman at S University, Ma,” Yifan said cautiously.

“University?” their mother looked slightly taken-aback, but Yifan wasn’t going to let her ruin things.

“S University. The best university in the country,” Yifan clarified. And finally Yifan’s mother looked more than impressed.

The rest of Henry’s “interview” went better than they could have hoped, and Yifan and Amber’s mother agreed to let Henry date her daughter. Furthermore, they were surprised when she said that she would convince their father of Henry’s worth as well.

Once Henry left, Amber hugged her brother with all her might.

“Thank you, Yifan, thank you thank you thank you!” she cried. “You are the best brother ever. I hope you find a—guy,” she whispered, “who’ll love you more than anything really soon.”

“I hope so too,” Yifan smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the years passed, the only thing that was constant was Henry and Amber’s relationship. It seemed as if they were just getting stronger and stronger while Yifan’s random boyfriends only lasted a few months at most.

And then finally, the autumn after Yifan had graduated college, he was sitting at his desk job. He couldn’t for his life understand why they’d made him come in on a Saturday afternoon, but he figured such was the life of a low-level accountant. Sitting there in front of his computer, he had no idea that his life was about to take a turn.

Yifan was staring at a list of numbers, not really sure what to make of them, when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, glad for the reprieve from his somewhat boring work, and was surprised to see Amber’s name on the screen. He hadn’t heard from her in nearly two months.

“Hello?” he said tentatively into the phone.

“Yifan?” came Amber’s voice. She sounded giddy, and Yifan wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Yeah?”

“Yifan, I have some really good news,” Amber said quickly, and now it was obvious to Yifan that Amber sounded excited.

“Okay, what is it?” Yifan prompted.

“I’m getting married,” Amber said finally. “Henry proposed this morning!”

“W-wow,” Yifan choked out, “congratulations! That’s—that’s awesome, Amber.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Yifan, that because I’m only twenty I’m too young and that—”

“I’m not thinking anything like that,” Yifan chuckled, and he heard Amber breathe a sigh of relief. “You two have been dating for five years and I think that marriage is the next logical step. I’m proud of you, Amber!”

“Really? You’re the best brother I’ve ever had,” Amber said, and Yifan could hear her smile.

“I know,” he replied haughtily. “Really, congratulations, little sister.”

“Thanks, Yifan,” Amber replied softly. “You’ll get your invitation in a few days. I’m hand-delivering yours.”

“I feel so privileged,” Yifan laughed. “So, I’m sure you want to tell me everything. I’ve got time. How did he propose?”

Amber took a deep breath as if she was about to launch into quite a story. Yifan was interested in hearing it, kind of, but he was more interested in humoring his sister.

“Okay,” she began excitedly. “Well, this morning we were supposed to go on a date this morning, so I waited outside the Starbucks for like an hour. It started to rain and I hadn’t brought an umbrella, so I was getting soaked, and besides that, I was furious. Henry has never been late for a date before, and the multiple times I’d forgotten my umbrella, he always had one for me. So I was frustrated and angry and—”

“But Amber,” Yifan interrupted, “why didn’t you just go into the Starbucks?”

“Shut up, Yifan. Anyway, he finally showed up after forty minutes, and he was apologizing and apologizing. He took me back to his apartment and let me shower and gave me a change of clothes. He made tea for me, but I didn’t drink it—thank God, I would have totally burned myself—but I could tell he was super nervous and I couldn’t understand why, and then—then he pulled out these flowers I hadn’t noticed before. And I was like ‘Henry what is this for’ and then he pulled out a little box and asked me to marry him! The ring is gorgeous, Yifan, wait ‘til you see it.”

“Wait, sorry, but why was he late?” Yifan asked, and Amber laughed, as if to say ‘typical, Yifan.’

“Oh, apparently it’s really hard to find a bouquet of orchids, but you know those are my favorite flower, and he wanted them really fresh,” Amber replied. She sighed in a lovesick way. “I’m so happy, Yifan.”

“I’m happy for you, little sister,” Yifan smiled into the phone. It was then that his supervisor knocked at the door, and Yifan sighed, not interested in going back to the rows and rows of numbers that were an excuse for a job. “Listen, Amber, I have to go. Work and all that. Take care, okay? I can’t wait to see you.”

“Okay, bye, Yifan,” Amber said, sounding quite happy before she hung up.

Really, Yifan was happy for her. He liked Henry and knew that his sister would be happy. But the thing that was eating at his mind was the fact that he’d never had anyone like that. He hadn’t managed to find that perfect person—the kind of person his little sister found at the tender age of sixteen.

No, work had consumed him and he didn’t have time to go looking for love. He’d never liked the crowdedness and loudness of a gay bar, and besides, he didn’t believe in picking up random people and hoping they’d be the one.

Sure, he’d had a few boyfriends here and there and more than a few one-night stands, but now that he was in the workforce—and even more so now that his little sister was getting married—Yifan wanted nothing more than to settle down.

Yifan opened the door for the supervisor, who handed him a pile of papers and asked him to please input them into the computer by tonight. Yifan nodded and smiled, but he was wondering how on Earth he was going to finish in time.

And he couldn’t help but remind himself of the terrifying fact that his little sister was getting married. He sighed, turning back to the numbers in front of him. He wondered how many people he’d still have to meet before he’d find the one.

Little did he know, the number was very small.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amber’s wedding was in December. She was dressed in a beautiful taffeta gown (she’d dragged Yifan to the bridal store with their mother), and she had a comb of small flowers adorning her cropped hair. She’d never looked lovelier or more mature.

Yifan teared up a little, watching his younger sister walk down the aisle. Henry looked over the moon, and just with one glance, Yifan could tell that Henry sincerely believed he was marrying the girl of his dreams. Yifan was glad to have helped them. In short, the wedding was wonderful, even in Yifan’s mind.

But the thing that changed his life was the reception, which he—of course—hadn’t expected at all.

He was standing with his friend Mi, who, surprisingly, he’d met at a gay bar and it just so happened that Mi was Chinese, like Yifan, and even more surprisingly, was friends with Henry. Mi and Yifan had become very close over the years, and Mi had gotten married to his boyfriend Kyuhyun earlier that year.

He took a sip from his second glass of champagne that night when Mi shook him.

“Yifan,” he said excitedly, “look at that guy.” Mi pointed to the man who was congratulating Amber. He was ¬tiny and beautiful, and the way he was carrying himself as he talked to Amber was elegant.

“He’s good-looking,” Yifan acknowledged. Mi gave him a patronizing glance.

“Are you kidding? Yifan, he’s totally your type. He’s a lot like that little guy you dated a few months back—”

“No, this guy is better looking,” Yifan said, “and you’re right, he’s very much my type. Except for the fact that he’s probably straight, like most men are.”

“How do you know?” Mi asked. “You and I are gay. There’s a high chance that there are other gay guys here too. Besides, look at him. Have you seen another guy who dresses that well? I think he’s wearing BB cream.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s gay,” Yifan pouted.

“But it could be an indication,” Mi retorted. “Why don’t you just ask Amber who he is? You never know—he could be your next boyfriend, Yifan. And I know you. You want to settle down, I can tell. Look at him. He looks ready to settle.”

“What does that even mean?” Yifan demanded. “You can’t tell if someone’s ready to settle just by looking at them.” Mi glared.

“It means that I think you should go talk to him instead of speculating. You could be missing out on a really great guy here, Yifan.”

Yifan sighed loudly, gulping down the last of his champagne. “You know what? I will go talk you him, since you’re being so annoying about it.” Mi grinned, glad that he’d been appeased, and Yifan made his way towards his sister and the gorgeous man standing with her.

He was suddenly incredibly nervous. As he walked towards the man, his entire romantic history played out in his head. Had he ever made the first move? Had he ever been the first one to talk to the other person? The first one to kiss them, the first one to propose further intimacy?

Every time, it was him who was dumped rather than him dumping the other person. “I’ve fallen in love with someone else,” they’d say, or “you don’t love me enough.”

And Yifan always acknowledged their complaints. He’d always understood why they’d fall in love with someone else, and he always understood why they thought he didn’t love them enough.

He didn’t understand why they’d always left with such a sad expression.

It was then that he stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t risk this. He’d get rejected for sure, and there was no way he could live that down.

But, as it happened, Yifan had helped influence Amber’s future, and evidently fate was eager for her to return the favor.

“Oh, Yifan!” she called, beckoning her brother towards her. “Come meet Joonmyeon!” The man talking to her turned his head and the look he gave Yifan made Yifan want to run for his life. He was even more breathtaking up close, and his expression of pure surprise—shock? disgust?—was beautiful. He had big brown eyes, soft brown hair, and there was nothing about his face that wasn’t perfect. He was perfect.

“Hi,” Yifan said coolly, thankful for the fact that he could keep calm even in high-pressure situations.

“Joonmyeon, this is my older brother, Yifan. Yifan, this is my friend Joonmyeon. He’s in my geology class at school, but he’s graduating this semester.”

“Hi,” Joonmyeon stutters. “Amber’s told me a lot about you.”

Yifan glared at his sister, knowing that she had a full stock of horrible things to say about Yifan. Amber noticed Yifan’s expression and laughed. “Nothing bad, Yifan, of course,” Amber said. She turned to Joonmyeon. “Really, he’s a great guy.”

“Thanks, Amber,” Yifan smiled, his confidence starting to restore itself.

“Sorry but—you’re really handsome,” Joonmyeon said quickly, bright red and his voice shaky. “And I think I might have had one glass of champagne too many.”

“We already knew that,” Amber smiled. “Well, anyway, I’ll leave you two to chat. I’m going to find Henry. Yifan, make Joonmyeon comfortable please.”

“Will do,” Yifan replied with a smile. His nervousness had almost completely dissipated as he watched Joonmyon shift from foot to foot. He was making Joonmyeon nervous—it was obvious now. “So, you’re graduating soon?” he asked, and Joonmyeon nodded.

“I’m finishing up the last of my requirements now,” he said, looking everywhere except straight at Yifan. Yifan couldn’t help but be entranced by the effect he had on the man—and he didn’t even know if he was interested in men.

Though, Yifan could see what Mi meant. Joonmyeon was definitely wearing BB cream, and his shoulders were probably three quarters of the width of Yifan’s. Of course, any guy could be like that, but not when he was shrinking under Yifan’s gaze.

“What’s your major?” Yifan asked him, trying to keep up some sort of conversation. He liked this guy so far.

“Uh—classical civilization. It’s not much and it probably won’t get me a job anytime soon, but it’s okay because I really love it,” Joonmyeon said, and finally he looked up. Seeing Yifan’s face seemed to reassure him and he smiled. His smile was beautiful, just like everything else about him.

“That’s cool,” Yifan said, nodding.

“W-what do you do?” Joonmyeon piped up, his cheeks bright pink once again. Yifan smiled dazzlingly.

“I’m in accounting,” Yifan replied. “Just—really low level stuff right now, but we’ll see what happens. At least I’m making a living, you know?”

“Oh, yeah!” Joonmyeon responded a little too enthusiastically. Yifan chuckled and Joonmyeon looked away once again.

It was then that a little girl sidled up to Joonmyeon with a cutesy smile on her face. “Uncle Joonmyeonnie, I’m sleepy. Will you take me home?” Joonmyeon looked wistful as he nodded.

“Sure, Jiyeonnie,” he said, picking the sleepy child up and holding her carefully. Yifan wondered if maybe Mi was right and Joonmyeon was ready to settle, because the way he was handling the little girl was fatherly and caring. “It was nice meeting you, Yifan,” he smiled his beautiful, nervous smile again. “I—I hope we can meet again.”

“Yeah,” Yifan replied. “You’re taking a taxi, right? Should I call it for you?”

“It’s okay,” Joonmyeon said. “I can call it. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Yifan said, and he watched Joonmyeon retreat with a dry mouth. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Mi behind him, smiling maliciously.

“So? Is he your type?” Mi asked.

“Yes,” Yifan replied. “Incredibly so.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why’d you stop?” Yixing complained when their father seemed finished with his story.

“Yeah,” Zitao pouted. “You only just met each other! How did you fall in love?”

“Hey, I was already in love,” Joonmyeon replied defensively. “It’s almost eleven, and you all have school tomorrow.”

“Anyway, I only told you I’d tell the story of how I met your father, right? I met him, so that story’s over now,” Yifan shrugged, and the living room suddenly housed an angry mob of children.

“Dad! That’s not fair!” Jongdae cried, rallying his brothers in an attempt to revolt. Yifan just scooped Sehun up easily and carried the complaining child to his room, the others following their father reluctantly.

Minseok and Luhan, however, stayed in the living room with Joonmyeon, looking almost sinister. Joonmyeon sighed at them, smiling.

“You two need to go to bed too, you know,” he said.

“Appa, we want to hear the rest of the story,” Minseok said sensibly, and Luhan nodded in agreement. “Luhan and I don’t need to sleep this early.” Joonmyeon looked at them with a little bit of disbelief.

“It’s a pretty boring story,” Joonmyeon shrugged. “I just ended up meeting him again and after a few times of running into each other he finally asked me out and we’ve been together—kind of—ever since.”

“Kind of?” Luhan asked, and he and his brother closed in on their father. “Appa, now you have to tell us. Does that mean you broke up or something?”

Joonmyeon laughed. “Come on, maybe we’ll tell you some other time. It’s R-rated anyway so you’ll have to wait until you’re older.”

“Appa!” Luhan cried, looking mockingly scandalized, “you and Dad did R-rated things? What a shock! I’m sure Minseok and I have no clue what kinds of things those would be.”

Joonmyeon frowned. “Don’t mock your father.”

“We’re sixteen already, Appa,” Minseok said. “We know about these things whether you want us to or not.” Joonmyeon rolled his eyes.

“Go to bed and I’ll tell you another time,” Joonmyeon said, attempting to usher his sons up the stairs. They wouldn’t budge, and it was especially hard to force Luhan to do anything since he was taller than Joonmyeon.

Yifan came back down the stairs. “Are you two coming, or not?”

“No!” they both said defiantly. “We want to hear the rest of the story!” Yifan frowned at them. “Fine, just a little bit more, and then you two have to go to bed, okay?”

“Okay!” they chimed angelically, and Joonmyeon frowned at his conniving sons before Yifan started recounting more of the story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The second time Yifan met Joonmyeon was at a bookstore, which was cliché in every way possible. Yifan was leafing through an inspirational book (he’d loved those) in the middle of an aisle of shelves when a small body came crashing into him.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” the man said, picking up Yifan’s book for him before he bent down to gather his own books. “I really—” he paused when he looked up at Yifan, and Yifan would have known that face anywhere.

Joonmyeon’s face reddened. “W-Wu Yifan, right?” he stuttered.

“That’s right, Kim Joonmyeon,” Yifan chuckled, and Joonmyeon looked like he was going to burst of a mixture between excitement and embarrassment. Yifan bent down to help Joonmyeon pick up his books—all about Greek civilization in some capacity—and Joonmyeon seemed so completely caught off guard that it took him a moment to join Yifan on the ground to pick up the books too.

“Thank you,” Joonmyeon said quietly, smiling at Yifan.

“It’s no trouble,” Yifan said. He was a little nervous, not knowing what to say to the obviously anxious man who was exactly Yifan’s type. “Just—study hard, okay?”

“Y-yes!” Joonmyeon said overenthusiastically. His cheeks turned even redder as he ran off with his books, and Yifan wanted to hit his head on a bookshelf because Joonmyeon was just so unbearably cute.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The third time they met each other was at a café.

Yifan had the afternoon off, and he decided to spoil himself with a coffee. He went to his favorite Starbucks, the one he always went to, to get himself a green tea Frappuccino.

But for some reason, the Starbucks Yifan frequented was incredibly crowded that day, so he decided to go to a different one just for that day. He’d heard about one a few streets down that was supposedly quite good. He opened the door and it jingled quaintly. He had a good feeling about this place.

He went up to the counter and ordered a green tea latte, which was the closest thing to a Frappuccino that he could get. He stood by the counter as he waited for his drink, and he felt a pair of eyes on him.

Yifan turned slightly, and for the briefest moment he locked eyes with a pair of familiar chocolate irises. Joonmyeon looked back down at the book he was reading, pretending not to have seen Yifan. Yifan decided to humor him for the time being.

“Here you go, sir,” the barista says, and Yifan collects his coffee and makes his way over to Joonmyeon.

“Kim Joonmyeon, is that you?” he asked in mock surprise, and Joonmyeon looked up, his cheeks already quite pink.

“Oh—Yifan,” Joonmyeon choked, knowing he’d been caught staring earlier. He didn’t try to pretend he hadn’t been. “I—I didn’t know you came here.”

“I don’t,” Yifan replied. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Oh! No! Go ahead!” Joonmyeon squawked, moving his books aside so Yifan would have more room. Yifan smiled and sat down across from the other man. “I’m just—looking some things over.”

“If you’re busy—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Joonmyeon hurried to say. “It’s…yeah, I’m not busy.” He looked at the table in embarrassment.

“How’s school?” Yifan asked, and Joonmyeon visibly relaxed.

“I’m almost done,” Joonmyeon replied quietly. “I just have a few more papers to write and a final exam or two but then I’ll graduate and I’ll be completely finished.”

“Congratulations,” Yifan smiled. Joonmyeon took a sip of his coffee and his hands were shaking. Yifan wondered if it was due to the caffeine or the anxiety of sitting with Yifan. Yifan wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be nervous, that Yifan already liked him plenty, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would be too forward, too brash.

Instead, he sipped the latte he’d ordered.

“Do you—how’s work?” Joonmyeon spoke up suddenly, and it took Yifan by surprise.

“It’s fine,” Yifan said. “I got the afternoon off today.” Joonmyeon perked up and then deflated almost immediately after, as if he realized he’d have the opportunity to spend the afternoon with Yifan but actually wouldn’t. Yifan almost laughed. Joonmyeon was really adorable.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder had them both staring out the window, and Yifan cursed under his breath. Joonmyeon looked up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I didn’t bring an umbrella,” Yifan muttered, glaring at the rain. Joonmyeon looked at Yifan with concern and Yifan tried not to show how cute he found a worried Joonmyeon.

“I have one,” Joonmyeon said slowly. “I was going to head to the grocery store after this, if you wanted to come. You could buy an umbrella—they’re really cheap!” Joonmyeon smiled at Yifan amicably, and Yifan smiled back. He really was glad Mi pushed him to talk to Joonmyeon at the wedding.

“That would be great,” he said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later they were making their way out of the café into the downpour of rain, and Joonmyeon pulled out his umbrella. He opened it under the awning of the café and lifted it so they would both fit underneath.

“Ready?” Joonmyeon asked, and Yifan nodded. They stepped into the rain and the pattering of fat raindrops drummed on the umbrella.

But no matter how Joonmyeon tried not to let the umbrella hit Yifan’s head, the fact of the matter was that Yifan was much taller than Joonmyeon.

“Hey,” Yifan said, “do you mind if I hold it? It would be easier.” Joonmyeon looked up, blushing as usual, and he sputtered before he managed to eke out a few words.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said. Yifan gingerly took the umbrella out of Joonmyeon’s hand and held it over the two of them as they walked to the store. They were so close they bumped arms once in a while, and Yifan found that he really liked being next to Joonmyeon like this. It was comfortable and felt right—almost relaxing. He wondered how Joonmyeon felt. Probably nervous and jittery, and Yifan wondered what he could do to make Joonmyeon more relaxed. He needed to somehow get rid of his untouchable vibe. But he didn’t know how to do that.

He opened the door for Joonmyeon when they got to the store, and Joonmyeon thanked him with a cute little bow. Yifan didn’t go straight for the umbrellas; rather, he followed Joonmyeon. Joonmyeon was wearing white pants and a blue shirt and Yifan could see just how slender he was. He looked like he’d fit perfectly in Yifan’s arms.

“What are you going to buy?” Yifan wondered, and Joonmyeon pondered for a minute.

“I need broth and vegetables and chicken,” Joonmyeon said, smiling up at Yifan. “Yeah, I think that should be it. Oh—and new dishtowels. I can’t forget those. Oh and eggs too! I’m going to make fried rice tonight. Ah…do I have enough kimchi at home? I think I do…” He looked lost in his own little domestic world and Yifan was struck by how easily he could imagine coming home to Joonmyeon cooking dinner.

“I’ll—I’ll go get the dishtowels for you,” Yifan sputtered, running away before Joonmyeon could say anything. He was not supposed to be thinking long-term thoughts about Joonmyeon. They hardly knew each other.

There was something about him, though. Something that Yifan really, really liked. He was small and cute, yes, but he could obviously hold his own as well, and it made Yifan really happy. Joonmyeon was pretty darn perfect.

Yifan was so lost in thought that he nearly passed the section of the store that sold dishtowels. He backtracked to the area and looked around. There were some wild-looking ones—Yifan had the distinct feeling that Joonmyeon did not want tie-dye dishtowels—and some more normal looking ones. Yifan was drawn to a set of dark blue ones. They were the same color as the shirt Joonmyeon was wearing and Yifan decided it was his new favorite color. He chose that set and ambled back to where Joonmyeon was browsing the vegetables. He liked Joonmyeon, but he’d wait to make a move. He didn’t want to ruin things by moving too fast.

“I got them,” Yifan announced, and Joonmyeon turned around, looking up at his shopping companion.

“Oh!” Joonmyeon cried, looking at the towels Yifan had picked out. “That’s the color I have now! How did you know?”

Yifan shrugged. “It seemed like your kind of color.” Joonmyeon blushed adorably, turning back to the vegetables with a mumbled “thank you.” Yifan wanted to chuckle, but he didn’t, instead stepping up behind Joonmyeon and surveying the vegetables he was looking at.

“The carrots look good,” he said in a low voice, and Joonmyeon jumped.

“Yes they do!” he said quickly, stuffing a few carrots into his basket. “They look great!” He stumbled around the rest of the vegetables, picking them up. He also decided to buy some gochujang and Yifan noted that Joonmyeon’s face was about the same color as the chili paste.

The last thing they passed was the umbrella stand, and Yifan picked out the cheapest, least fancy one. He waited for Joonmyeon as Joonmyeon checked out, and then they left the store together. It wasn’t long until they had to part ways, because Joonmyeon’s apartment was in a different area than Yifan’s.

“Thanks for letting me follow you today,” Yifan chuckled, and Joonmyeon’s face was still a bright red.

“I like company,” Joonmyeon replied shyly. He looked up at Yifan quickly, and his eyes were big and bright and beautiful. Yifan was entranced. “Well, bye!”

Yifan couldn’t just let him go. He had to ask him for his phone number or something.

“Wait, Joonmyeon!” he cried, and Joonmyeon turned around, looking hopeful. But Yifan couldn’t do it. “Uh…good luck on your essays.”

Joonmyeon smiled, and if he was disappointed, he hid it well. “Thanks,” he said, turning back around. Yifan watched him until the man disappeared around the corner.

He’d have to ask Amber about her classmate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Okay, now it’s time for you two to go to bed. You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow,” Joonmyeon said, ushering his two oldest children out of the living room.

“So are we,” Yifan complained, yawning as he looked at the clock. It was almost midnight, and he didn’t like the idea of waking up at six the next morning.

“Aw,” Minseok pouted. “I wanted to hear the rest. You’re not even dating yet.”

Joonmyeon laughed. “Love takes time,” he said, and Luhan sniffed.

“Well, hopefully not too much longer or we’ll be married and out of the house by the time you finish telling your story,” he said, and Yifan laughed.

“Go to bed, you troublemaker,” he said, and Minseok and Luhan scampered up the stairs as they bid their parents goodnight.

Joonmyeon took his husband’s hand. “We should sleep too,” he said, and Yifan squeezed Joonmyeon’s fingers and kissed his lips.

“Yes we should.”

 

 

 

 

The boys had pestered their parents about the rest of the story for a few more days, but it was quickly forgotten.

It was only brought up again when Luhan and Minseok had been out at a real party for the first time about two years later. They were almost done with high school and the party had been at a friend’s house. It had quickly turned sour, and Minseok had called home in near tears, saying that Luhan was really drunk and they were both a little scared.

Yifan had been livid and Joonmyeon wanted to cry, but Yixing was there to talk a little sense into his parents as they sat in the living room with their two oldest sons. Luhan was holding a wastebasket in on his lap, and Minseok was pointedly not making eye contact with either of his parents.

“At least they called,” Yixing said quietly, “right? And they know they did something wrong. Besides, I’m sure you two have been drunk before.”

Joonmyeon looked up at Yifan with surprise in his eyes. Yifan relaxed and smiled at Joonmyeon. “Actually, our relationship started because Appa had had far too much to drink.” Minseok looked up, obviously interested, and even Luhan’s hazy brain focused a little.

And then Jongdae charged into the room, Chanyeol and Baekhyun following him closely.

“Alright, tell the story,” he said, sitting down in front of his parents. “And don’t leave anything out.” Joonmyeon laughed, and their other four sons filed quietly into the room as well.

“I don’t know,” Yifan said, but they were having none of it.

“We’ve waited two years for this story,” Zitao protested. “We’re old enough to hear it now.”

“Yeah,” Sehun said, “I saw Brokeback Mountain so I know.”

“When did you see that?” Joonmyeon demanded, and Yifan cleared his throat conspicuously before changing the subject.

“Fine, we’ll tell you the story,” Yifan said.

“About how you fell in love,” Kyungsoo said, and Yifan nodded.

“About how Appa and I fell in love.”

And that’s when Luhan started throwing up. Joonmyeon jumped over to him, pushing back his hair and helping him up.

“Start the story,” he said as he rushed Luhan to the bathroom. “I’ll take care of him.” Yifan wanted to help, but the rest of his sons were keeping him captive.

“Appa will take good care of him,” Baekhyun assured his father. “Now tell us the story.”

Yifan grinned, remembering something before he started.

“Appa doesn’t remember this story, and I’ve never told it to him,” he said, and the remaining children suddenly looked more interested. “So don’t tell him, okay? I don’t want him hearing about this. Got it? Everyone, understood?”

“Yes, Daddy!” they all cried, and Yifan nodded, starting the remainder of the story.  

 

 

 

 

Joonmyeon really liked raspberry vodka. Joonmyeon was also small and light.

Raspberry vodka didn’t like Joonmyeon very much, but Yifan enjoyed the effect. Joonmyeon’s face was bright red and there was a smile plastered on his face that made Yifan smile too.

They came in a group, with his sister Amber, her husband Henry, Yifan’s friend Mi, and a few other people that Amber and Henry knew.

And now Joonmyeon was smiling like an idiot at Yifan. He sauntered over, his gait a little off-center as he took the seat next to Yifan at the bar.

“Hi,” he said cutely.

“Hi,” Yifan smiled. Joonmyeon had a great face, and the skinny jeans he’s wearing today accentuated his curves just right.

“Yifan,” Joonmyeon said, putting his elbow on the bar and trying unsuccessfully to rest his head in his hand several times before he actually managed to do it right. “Can you buy me some more raspberry vodka? It’s tasty.”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Joonmyeon,” Yifan chuckled, taking a sip of his own beer. Yifan stuck to beer rather than hard liquor, after a really bad night once in college that had decreased his tolerance significantly.

And besides, thanks to his sobriety, he would remember how adorable Joonmyeon was that night while Joonmyeon would have no clue.

“But Yifan,” Joonmyeon whined like a child, “I’m thirsty and it’s tasty.”

“How about some water?” Yifan offered.

“I want vodka,” Joonmyeon whined again. Then his smile returned. “Yifan, please? Bbuing bbuing?” He made silly motions with his hands beside his scarlet face, but Yifan just shook his head.

“Joonmyeon, how about you—”

“Yifan, you’re so hot,” Joonmyeon mused, and Yifan paused to look at him. He had always heard that alcohol loved to make people tell the truth.

So if Joonmyeon was being truthful, a little truth from Yifan couldn’t hurt either.

“You’re hot, too,” Yifan said. Joonmyeon’s smile grew.

“And your lips look like raspberry vodka. Do they taste like raspberry vodka? Let me taste, Yifan,” Joonmyeon said, reaching up for Yifan’s face.

“You’re drunk,” Yifan said, evading Joonmyeon’s hand.

“No, I’m not,” Joonmyeon whined. “I’m not drunk, I don’t get drunk.”

“You’re drunk,” Yifan said again. Joonmyeon pushed his lips into a little moue.

“Just kiss me. It’s just kissing; there’s no harm in that. Kiss me, Yifan.” And Yifan was so, so tempted. He knew he shouldn’t, but nobody was watching them. It was just a kiss—Joonmyeon wouldn’t remember it in the morning and Yifan could have his way now.

So he leaned in and pressed his lips to Joonmyeon’s. Joonmyeon quickly opened his mouth, and Yifan wanted to laugh. Joonmyeon reeked of alcohol, his tongue tasting like raspberry and vodka. Joonmyeon’s tongue sloppily entered Yifan’s mouth, licking everywhere and sucking on Yifan’s tongue. Yifan pulled away, and Joonmyeon pouted.

“Am I a bad kisser?” Joonmyeon asked, and his eyes looked so pitiful.

“When you’re drunk you are,” Yifan laughed. “Maybe we can try again when you’re sober.”

“You wouldn’t like me when I’m sober—not that I’m drunk now,” he added quickly, his words slurring together. “I’m boring when I’m sober. You wouldn’t like me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Yifan smiled, but Joonmyeon didn’t seem to hear him as he pointed to the ceiling. Yifan looked up, but Joonmyeon just gasped.

“It’s the Spice Girls!” Joonmyeon cried, jumping out of his seat and facing Yifan.

Much to Yifan’s surprise, Joonmyeon started dancing, and his dancing was horrendous. Yifan laughed as he watched Joonmyeon blow kisses at Yifan, as he winked. He started trying body rolls, which Yifan was sure would be sexy if Joonmyeon hadn’t been plastered drunk. He pointed to Yifan, and finally he ambled back up when the song faded, standing in front of Yifan and leaning in, expecting another kiss.

“What was that?” Yifan said instead, looking at the smaller man in amusement.

“My confession to you,” Joonmyeon said easily, leaning against Yifan’s chest. “I confessed to you!”

“Okay,” Yifan laughed. “Thank you.”

“Let’s kiss again,” Joonmyeon said, and Yifan obliged him quickly, this time not opening his lips for Joonmyeon. Joonmyeon didn’t seem to care, though. He just looked up at Yifan intently. “I want to sleep with you tonight.”

“Joonmyeon, no, you’re drunk,” Yifan said.

“No I’m not,” Joonmyeon replied again, but Yifan just smiled.

“I’ll bring you to my apartment then,” Yifan said, and Joonmyeon nodded vigorously. Yifan said goodbye to the others in their group, and he left with not just a few winks from his friends. He rolled his eyes at them, because there was no way he’d do anything to Joonmyeon when he was that drunk.

They took a taxi to Yifan’s apartment, and Joonmyeon fell asleep during the ride. He leaned on Yifan’s shoulder, and Yifan took a look. Joonmyeon was absolutely adorable.

“Joonmyeon,” he said when they arrived, “wake up. We’re here.”

“Carry me,” Joonmyeon whined.

“I can’t,” Yifan laughed. “Come on, you can sleep when we get inside.” Joonmyeon trudged into the building with Yifan, into the elevator, and once the doors closed, he pressed himself up against Yifan’s tall frame.

“I want you,” he said slowly. Yifan placed a quick kiss on his lips.

“I know,” he replied quietly. “But not tonight.” The elevator dinged and they got out on Yifan’s floor, Yifan unlocking his door and entering his apartment.

He gave Joonmyeon a cup of water, showed him the bathroom and changed him into a t-shirt and a pair of too-large boxers that hung loose on Joonmyeon’s slim hips.

“Sleep with me,” Joonmyeon pleaded after Yifan offered him his bed.

“Joonmyeon, I can’t,” Yifan said. “You’re drunk.”

“You have to make sure that I don’t die in my sleep. Sleep with me,” Joonmyeon said, and Yifan was surprised to think that Joonmyeon maybe had a point.

In any case, he couldn’t resist just how sexy Joonmyeon looked in Yifan’s clothes.

“Okay, fine,” Yifan said, “but no inappropriateness, okay?”

“Fine,” Joonmyeon said. They both climbed into Yifan’s bed, and it was small. Yifan had to hug Joonmyeon close so that he didn’t fall off.

Joonmyeon nuzzled into Yifan’s chest.

“Yifan,” Joonmyeon said quietly, “let’s get married and adopt ten boys.”

“Okay,” Yifan laughed, and in a matter of minutes, Joonmyeon was fast asleep.

Yifan couldn’t wait to get up in the morning and see how Joonmyeon reacted to the night’s events.

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyeon came back into the room with Luhan, who looked paler but slightly more focused. He was clean and had a remorseful expression on his face.

“Sorry about this, Dad,” he mumbled, looking at the ground. “It won’t happen again.”

“As long as you know it was wrong,” Yifan said, letting Luhan come over. He ruffled his son’s hair while Joonmyeon sat down next to Minseok.

“Where are you in the story?” he asked Yifan after Luhan sat down next to his brother once again. Yifan smiled at his husband.

“The morning after that night at the bar,” he said.

“Very interesting night, Appa,” Jongdae winked, and Joonmyeon’s eyes widened. He spluttered for a moment.

“Ah—Yifan! Did you tell them everything? That night was so embarrassing! Even now—eighteen years later it’s still embarrassing!” Joonmyeon cried. The kids were laughing at their father and even at forty years old, Joonmyeon still looked cute when he pouted.

“It’s okay,” Yifan said, and Yixing patted his other father’s leg comfortingly.

“Come on,” Jongin said, “get to the good part! I want to hear how Appa reacted in the morning!”

“Okay, okay,” Yifan chuckled.

 

 

 

 

Yifan woke up early that morning, looking at Joonmyeon’s sleeping face. He was adorable and perfect and Yifan could not let this opportunity go to waste.

He knew that, and yet as he was sliding his way carefully out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants and switching his sleeping shirt for a proper one, he couldn’t think of how he was going to make the most of this.

Breakfast could be a good start. And having aspirin ready for Joonmyeon when he woke up. He was definitely going to need it after a night like the one he’d just had. Before leaving the bedroom, he folded Joonmyeon’s clothes that he’d left on the chair for the night and set them on the dresser. He glanced back at Joonmyeon, who looked utterly angelic as he slept. Yifan smiled, opening the door carefully so as not to wake the object of his affections.

He made his way to the kitchen with a yawn, thinking vaguely that he should brush his teeth in case Joonmyeon wanted to kiss again. He laughed at himself—of course Joonmyeon wouldn’t want to. Ridiculous. Instead, he found that he had some left over kimchi stew in the fridge. He dumped it into a pot and turned on a burner, heating up the breakfast. He figured he’d make some rice and coffee while he was at it.

Yifan thought of that night as he measured out the rice and the water. He dumped the contents into the rice cooker and set it to cook. Joonmyeon had confessed to him. Drunkenly, sure, but he’d confessed, and that was what mattered to Yifan. There was no doubt anymore, no more excuses not to let this go somewhere. Yifan could make it work. He scooped some coffee into a filter and stuffed it in the coffee machine, setting that to drip as well as he went back to the kimchi stew. He stirred it absentmindedly.

He could ask Joonmyeon out on a date. That was easy. Or—he could ask him for his phone number. Even easier. But—they hadn’t had sex, so Joonmyeon wouldn’t misunderstand and think it was just a one night stand. Or so Yifan hoped. He’d have to clarify, maybe. He wanted it to go somewhere. Maybe not marriage—although he wouldn’t rule out the eventual possibility (and besides, Joonmyeon had suggested it)—but somewhere.

He heard a crash come from the bedroom and he wondered if Joonmyeon was alright. It didn’t take Yifan long to decide to go investigate. He was no stranger to wobbly legs the morning after too much alcohol.

Opening the door slowly, Yifan held his breath. How would Joonmyeon react?

Joonmyeon turned at the sound of the door opening, and his eyes went wide. Yifan smiled.

“It’s you?” Joonmyeon gasped. “I—did we—did we—” Yifan saw the look of panic in Joonmyeon’s eyes.

“God, no, Joonmyeon,” Yifan said seriously, making sure that Joonmyeon would believe him. “I couldn’t do anything to you when you were that drunk. What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I don’t know,” Joonmyeon replied, blushing. It was cute. “I’m just…really surprised. What happened last night? Is this blood?”

“It’s raspberry vodka,” Yifan laughed. “You must really like that stuff. I think you had four or five shots before I made you stop drinking.”

Joonmyeon looked at the ground, obviously extremely embarrassed.

“You were really cute, though,” Yifan added, and Joonmyeon looked up again, his face almost as red as it had been seven hours before. “You danced for me.” Memories of the event flooded back into Yifan’s mind, and he grinned in spite of himself.

“Oh my God,” Joonmyeon breathed, covering his face. “Oh my God. If I said anything weird—”

“Well, you told me I was hot,” Yifan said, unable to help himself. He really liked the cute and embarrassed expressions on Joonmyeon’s face.

“It’s just—”

“And I told you you were hot too,” Yifan added more quietly. Yifan could hardly believe it, but he was fairly sure he was blushing too. He really was head over heels for Joonmyeon. “Uh—do you want breakfast?” he changed the subject quickly. “I have rice and kimchi stew and coffee. And aspirin for your headache.”

“Oh—thank you,” Joonmyeon said nervously. Yifan surveyed Joonmyeon, although hopefully he didn’t look as lecherous as he felt.

“I’d offer you sweats but I think they’d be really long on you,” Yifan said, and Joonmyeon looked down. He didn’t seem terribly bothered by the fact that he was barely clothed, and Yifan let out a breath of relief. He looked up again when Joonmyeon started speaking.

“H-hey, I didn’t…I mean, I know I danced or whatever, but…I didn’t do anything, uh, immodest, did I?” Joonmyeon asked.

Immodest was the least of Joonmyeon’s problems, Yifan wanted to laugh.

“No,” he said instead, pointedly not revealing anything Joonmyeon had done the previous night. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Joonmyeon said, sounding a little unconvinced. “Yifan, I’m really sorry for imposing on you.”

“Hey, I took you here of my own free will. You’re not imposing at all, I promise,” Yifan said, showing Joonmyeon to his kitchen.

“Okay,” Joonmyeon said again. Yifan pulled out a stool for Joonmyeon and Joonmyeon sat, shifting awkwardly.

“You really were cute last night, though,” Yifan said, turning away from Joonmyeon to tend to the kimchi stew simmering on the stove.

Joonmyeon mumbled another “thank you,” but didn’t say anything else. He was probably embarrassed, Yifan thought. He didn’t need this much teasing.

Yifan set out two bowls and scooped rice into each, piling them high. Another two bowls were filled to the brim with kimchi stew, and he set out two mugs for the coffee.

“Milk or sugar?” Yifan asked. Joonmyeon nodded.

“I’m not good with bitter coffee,” Joonmyeon told him. Yifan couldn’t get over how adorable Joonmyeon was. He was really something else. Yifan smiled, setting out the milk and sugar. He put two spoonfuls of sugar in his own coffee, just the way he liked it. Joonmyeon rubbed his temples and suddenly Yifan remembered the aspirin. Joonmyeon probably wouldn’t ask for aspirin if he needed it, so Yifan poured him a small glass of water and handed him the two pills. Joonmyeon thanked him and swallowed them quickly. Yifan sat down and looked at Joonmyeon, willing himself to attempt to start a real conversation.

“So, how are you feeling then?” he asked.

“Really confused,” Joonmyeon replied, sounding embarrassed still.

“What are you confused about?” Yifan asked. “I remember everything from last night, so—”

“You make it sound like it was a wild night,” Joonmyeon said concernedly.

“It was less wild than it could have been. I’m just glad I wasn’t drunk, or I might not have refused all your invitations,” Yifan grinned, enjoying how flustered Joonmyeon was becoming, and Joonmyeon blanched.

“You said I didn’t do anything immodest!” he cried, and Yifan was laughing happily. “Yifan, what did I do? Invitations? What invitations?”

“You asked me to kiss you, and you told me you wanted me and that you wanted to sleep with me. Oh, and you told me as you were falling asleep that we should get married and adopt ten kids,” Yifan said, remembering it fondly. He was actually kind of up for that suggestion, which he took as a very good sign. “Ten boys.”

Joonmyeon looked unhappy—almost on the verge of tears, and Yifan suddenly wondered if he had gone too far with his teasing.

“I’m going,” Joonmyeon said, turning toward the bedroom.

“No, wait, Joonmyeon,” Yifan jumped up, grabbing Joonmyeon’s wrist. He couldn’t let it end there. He had to do something—he wanted Joonmyeon. He wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. “Wait, it was cute. It was—I wanted to do all of those things, I just couldn’t when you were drunk. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d slept with you while you weren’t even fully aware of what was happening.”

“I—I…” Joonmyeon stuttered. He didn’t try to wrestle his arm from Yifan’s grasp, and Yifan was glad. He had some hope. “Wait, but…”

“Also I thought it would be better if we didn’t make it a one-night stand type of thing,” Yifan added, sure that he sounded completely sheepish. He wanted to let Joonmyeon know how he felt. “I might be out of line, but do you maybe want to go to dinner with me tomorrow night? And we can make this a regular thing.”

“I—yeah, I’d like that a lot,” Joonmyeon finally managed to say.

“Great,” Yifan smiled. He felt almost euphoric. He had Joonmyeon within reach! “Now would you please sit down and eat the breakfast I made for you? It’s going to get cold.”

Joonmyeon sat down with a smile and they had their first breakfast together that morning. Yifan hadn’t felt so happy in a very long time.

 

 

 

 

“Wait, hang on a second,” Joonmyeon said suspiciously. “Are you suggesting I did do something unseemly that night? Yifan…”

“Maybe,” Yifan chuckled, and the children who knew the secret laughed as well.

Joonmyeon looked flustered. “Yifan! Tell me!” he cried.

Yifan shrugged. “I’m just saying, maybe our first kiss wasn’t in my car like you thought it was.”

“Are you saying I kissed you that night? Or you kissed me? Oh my God, Yifan—it’s been eighteen years and I didn’t know?”

“Your first kiss was in a car?” Chanyeol piped up. “Like Yixing’s!” They all turned to Yixing, shocked, because as far as they knew, Yixing had never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend before.

Yixing blushed bright red and looked down. Jongdae cleared his throat.

“Uh, Xing…should we tell them?” he asked. Joonmyeon turned to Jongdae looking horrified, but Yixing just nodded. “Appa, Dad, Yixing’s dating Victoria.”

“Victoria?” Joonmyeon asked. “You mean—Mi and Kyuhyun’s daughter? Our next door neighbor? The one that’s in college?”

“Yes, Appa,” Sehun deadpanned, “that Victoria. Xing’s had a crush on her since I was like three, so don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m not worried, just—” Joonmyeon began, but he was quickly interrupted by his husband.

“Yixing, you have to get married. You and Victoria absolutely must get married.” The entire family looked up in surprise and Yixing looked incredibly confused.

“Dad, I’m not thinking about marriage…I’m only sixteen and—”

“No, no, I bet Mi a lot of money that you and Victoria would get married. You have to, Xing, for—”

“Yifan!” Joonmyeon scolded, frowning at his husband. He turned to Yixing. “Xing, do what you want, okay? Marriage should be for love and not for your no-good father’s financial gain.” Yixing buried his face in his hands with a mumbled “thanks” and Kyungsoo, the ever understanding brother, attempted to change the subject.

“So—so, then, your first kiss?” Kyungsoo asked, and everyone in the room seemed to relax a little.

“Oh, right,” Joonmyeon said. “It was…what, two, three weeks after that night?”

“Yeah,” Yifan said. “About two or three weeks sounds right.”

“And were you already in love at that point?” Zitao asked.

“Very much so,” Yifan smiled.

 

 

 

 

It was their third date. And to call it a date would have been a little bit of an overstatement because they were just driving around in a car. In Yifan’s 1997 Hyundai Elantra, to be precise.

Yifan had always been a fierce advocate of car dates because it meant you could talk without feeling awkward about pauses in conversation. Keeping your eye on the road was an excellent excuse. But somehow, this date felt vaguely unsatisfying. He wanted to be out walking with Joonmyeon, seeing him laugh and holding his hand. They’d slept in the same bed, for God’s sakes. They had no excuses for awkward conversation anymore.

Joonmyeon coughed as Yifan turned the corner. “I’m graduating next week,” Joonmyeon said. “I don’t know, maybe if you have time you could come to the ceremony? Nothing big, you don’t need to bring anything, but—”

“I’d be honored to come,” Yifan grinned. “Really, I’d love to be there.”

“Great,” Joonmyeon said, and even though Yifan couldn’t see him, he could hear the smile in Joonmyeon’s voice.

They drove for a few more miles, chatting amicably until they were coming up to a scenic overlook on the river.

“Can we go?” Joonmyeon asked, looking interested when Yifan glanced his way.

“Sure,” Yifan replied, pulling into the small parking lot and getting out of the car. Joonmyeon joined him at the overlook, and it really was pretty. It was late afternoon and the sun was just starting to turn a lovely golden color that made Joonmyeon’s irises a light brown. He was gorgeous.

And suddenly he turned to Yifan with a smile.

“What?” Yifan asked, and Joonmyeon pointed towards a break in the fence.

“Look,” he said, “we can climb down there and go right up to the river!” He looked excited and interested but Yifan was not either of those.

“Isn’t that illegal? Or dangerous, anyway?” he asked, and Joonmyeon laughed.

“So? Who’s going to find out?” he challenged with a cute smile. “Don’t you want to see what’s down there?” Joonmyeon started edging towards the break in the fence teasingly, as if testing Yifan. Yifan pouted and Joonmyeon’s smile just grew.

“Come on, Joonmyeon, don’t,” Yifan said impatiently, but Joonmyeon was having none of it.

“Suit yourself,” he said liltingly, stepping past the fence and starting to climb down to the river. Yifan didn’t want to go. But even more, he didn’t want Joonmyeon to go by himself. He battled with the two debating sides of himself until the one that wanted to be with Joonmyeon won out, and he followed his cute boyfriend down the pebbly path.

“So you decided to come!” Joonmyeon says without turning around. He’s being careful. Yifan’s slightly more relieved as he follows Joonmyeon down the path.

Joonmyeon stumbled towards the bottom, but before Yifan could react, Joonmyeon was on his feet right at the water’s edge. He turned back to Yifan with a bright smile and Yifan couldn’t help but want to kiss him.

Kiss him. Yes, he was going to do that at some point that evening. He vowed to himself that he would.

He tripped towards the bottom just as Joonmyeon had, but Joonmyeon reached out to steady him as well, and Yifan smiled at Joonmyeon as Joonmyeon smiled back. Their relationship was already full of smiles. Yifan loved that.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Joonmyeon asked him, and Yifan laughed.

“No,” he replied. He took Joonmyeon’s hand in his, and he loved how it was small compared to his. He felt like they really fit. They walked towards the riverside together and Joonmyeon shed his shoes right away. Yifan followed suit, wading in the water after Joonmyeon. The water was not cold and it was clear, which Yifan hadn’t expected at all, but it was so nice.

“I like this,” Joonmyeon said. “I love being by the river and wading and looking out at the boats. I’d like to do that someday, you know? Go on a boat.”

“There’s a lot of stuff you want to do someday,” Yifan teased, and Joonmyeon turned red again.

“You’re making fun of me,” Joonmyeon mumbled.

“Only a little,” Yifan laughed, squeezing Joonmyeon’s hand. “We should go on a boat sometime. I think you’re right; it would be fun.”

“That sounds great!” Joonmyeon cried, almost bouncing cutely. Yifan couldn’t get enough of Joonmyeon’s brightness. Kiss—yes, he’d kiss him right now.

He took a step towards Joonmyeon and Joonmyeon’s eyes widened in anticipation. Another step and—

“Ow!” Yifan cried, stepping back and lifting his foot up to inspect the damage.

“What happened?” Joonmyeon asked, looking at Yifan in concern. Yifan’s foot was not bleeding, thankfully, but he couldn’t identify where the pain came from. He frowned, kneeling down and peering into the water.

There was a crab. A very tiny crab, but it was still a crab.

“What a jerk,” Joonmyeon said, and Yifan looked up to see that Joonmyeon was kneeling down and looking at the crab too. “Mr. Crab, you need to be nicer to people. He didn’t mean to step on you!”

Yifan laughed, then. “Yes, Mr. Crab, please don’t hurt me. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He picked up the crab, which didn’t pinch him this time, and Joonmyeon excitedly took a picture of it sitting in Yifan’s hand. “What should we name it?” Yifan asked. “It needs a name.”

“Hmm…Sebastian?” Joonmyeon suggested.

“What if it’s a girl?” Yifan asked.

“How can you tell if it’s a girl or not?” Joonmyeon wondered, and they both inspected the crab for a moment.

“I don’t know,” Yifan shrugged.

“Let’s name her Ariel, then. That’s a good name,” Joonmyeon said with an air of finality. Yifan set her down on the sandy bank of the river and the sun was starting to go down. They sat down on a rock, watching the small waves lap at the riverbank.

“This is nice,” Yifan mused, holding Joonmyeon’s hand again. Joonmyeon nodded.

“It’s really nice,” he replied. It was silent for a few seconds—perfect timing. Yifan leaned in ever so slightly, Joonmyeon turned his face and—

An electronic pop song interrupted them and Joonmyeon turned away.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “that’s Jiyeon’s ringtone. I really need to take this.” He answered the call and his voice changed immediately. “Hi, Jiyeonnie. Yes, Uncle Joonmyeon is doing fine. That’s right, I am with Uncle Yifan! Oh—yes. Maybe. Oh, really? Okay, okay, I’ll be there at seven, how does that sound? Okay, bye, Jiyeonnie. Bye. Okay, yes, I’ll hang up first. Jiyeon—Jiyeon, come on. Okay, fine, you hang up first. Jiyeon…ugh, no you hang up first. No, you. No, you. Okay let’s hang up at the same time. One, two, three.”

Yifan laughed. “She thinks you’re her boyfriend,” he commented, but Joonmyeon shook his head with a smile.

“She knows you and I are together,” he replied. “But we really should go. Her mother wants me over by seven.”

“Okay,” Yifan said, standing up. They walked over to the path and climbed up carefully, making sure that they didn’t slip.

“She’s really like my daughter—although…I guess you know I’d prefer sons,” Joonmyeon laughed, turning pink. “I love kids, though, really.” He slid into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.

Yifan followed suit in the driver’s seat, and Joonmyeon was still talking about how much he’d love to be a father someday.

Yifan was not going to be interrupted anymore. He leaned over, sliding a hand around Joonmyeon’s head and pulling him in. He kissed him tenderly, no tongue, but their mouths slipped against each other just right.

And how different it was to kiss Joonmyeon when his lips didn’t taste like raspberry and alcohol. They were sweet in a different way—minty, maybe. And oh so soft and warm and not wet—just plump and moist.

Yifan pulled back, pecking Joonmyeon on the lips quickly before he looked into his boyfriend’s eyes. Joonmyeon was blushing wildly.

“Our first kiss,” Joonmyeon smiled shyly.

Yifan didn’t have the heart to tell him that their first kiss had been significantly less innocent.

 

 

 

 

“What?” Joonmyeon demanded. “So I did kiss you that night at the bar, didn’t I? Yifan, you should have told me.” Joonmyeon looked melancholy and Yifan laughed at him.

“It’s okay. I think of that one as our first kiss anyway since it was the nicest of all the first kisses. But still, you were really unbearably cute that night,” he said.

“How can you two still be so cheesy after eighteen years of marriage?” Jongdae demanded, and Zitao made an indignant noise.

“It’s called love, you jerk!” Zitao cried. He frowned at his brother and his brother frowned back, obviously unimpressed with Zitao’s romantic side.

“Okay, okay,” Yifan chuckled, “that’s enough. Are you guys satisfied now? Told you the story of our first kiss and then our actual first kiss. Are you ready to sleep yet?”

Sehun was already asleep, and Jongin had been nodding off for a few minutes as well. Luhan, too, looked like he was about to pass out, so the kids all took their leave. Minseok helped his still-drunk brother up the stairs and into their room, and Joonmyeon and Yifan looked on with proud eyes.

“He’s a good kid, Minseok,” Yifan commented. “He made a lot of good decisions tonight, despite the bad things that happened.”

“Yeah,” Joonmyeon smiled, nestling himself into his husband’s chest. “So. I want to know. Is kissing the only thing I did to you that night at the bar?”

“Yes,” Yifan replied, kissing him again. “You suggested other things, but I refused. I figured you might like me better if I didn’t take advantage of you while you were drunk.”

“And of course you were right,” Joonmyeon responded.

“Your drunken kisses have always been sloppy. I prefer to kiss you when you’re sober anyway,” Yifan told him. “Do you think we’re too cheesy for having been married for eighteen years?”

“No,” Joonmyeon replied, “I think we’re perfect.”

“That’s cheesy,” Yifan laughed.

“Good.”

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun was seventeen when he came out. He didn’t cry or get overemotional, but he was a little mopey.

“It’s just that my friends seem to see me a little differently now,” Baekhyun said quietly, sitting in the living room between his parents, Chanyeol and Jongdae sitting in chairs opposite him. “I don’t know—they’re trying to make it seem like it doesn’t bother them, but I can tell it does. It’s nice of them, but at the same time I wish that we could go back to being the same way we were before, you know?”

Joonmyeon patted his son’s back. “I know,” he said. “It’s okay. Eventually they’ll realize that you’re not interested in them in that way and—”

“Baekhyun,” Yifan interrupted, and Joonmyeon didn’t complain because he knew what Yifan was about to say. “It might not ever go back to being the same as it used to be. And you’ll have to get used to that. But you’ll meet new people who will accept you unconditionally, okay?”

“I know,” Baekhyun sighed. “It’s still tough, though. I don’t like it. Maybe I shouldn’t have come out.”

“Did you know I came out after Appa and I started dating?” Yifan asked, and Baekhyun perked up. “Well, I’d been out to a few people—Aunt Amber knew for years, and Mi and Kyuhyun from next door knew, but my parents didn’t know.”

“Wow,” Chanyeol breathed. “How did that go?”

“Really badly,” Joonmyeon laughed. “Really really badly.” Yifan grimaced.

“Don’t laugh—it was a traumatizing point in my life,” Yifan sniffed. “Appa and I kind of broke up because of it.”

“What?” Jongdae cried. “You mean you haven’t been together this whole time?”

“Nope,” Joonmyeon shook his head. “There was that brief period…”

“Tell us!” Chanyeol and Jongdae chanted, and Baekhyun too looked eager to hear the story. Yifan sighed with a smile.

“Okay, okay,” he said.

 

 

 

 

They went out for their one year anniversary. It wasn’t anything much—they went to the movies and kissed a lot, they went to have ice cream. A few things went wrong—Yifan lost thirty dollars and Joonmyeon stepped in mud outside—but it wasn’t anything huge.

But Yifan regretted offering to show Joonmyeon his childhood home. He’d expected his parents to be out, and they were, at first.

The came back, though. Yifan had left the front door open, and his parents came back when Yifan was kissing Joonmyeon passionately in the foyer.

There was yelling and accusations and threats, even tears from Joonmyeon and Yifan’s mother. Yifan’s parents couldn’t accept the fact that Yifan was gay—and that he was seeing a man. They called Joonmyeon some horrible things—“slut” was the nicest of them—and it was all happening so fast that Yifan didn’t really know what to say.

It ended with Joonmyeon leaving the house as he fought back tears and Yifan chasing him as he left.

“Joonmyeon!” he cried. “Wait!” He caught Joonmyeon’s arm, but Joonmyeon pulled it out of his grasp.

“You didn’t stand up for me!” he cried.

“They were calling me bad things too!” Yifan retorted defensively. “This is hard for me!” Joonmyeon stomped his foot, tears spilling out of his eyes.

“You think I didn’t have to go through this with my own parents?” he demanded in a raised voice. “You think I haven’t heard these things before? I thought that if it had to happen again, maybe this time someone would defend me, but I guess I was wrong!”

Yifan probably would have cried had he not been so angry at everything that had just happened, so instead he raised his voice and his temper. “How do you expect me to defend you when I can’t even defend myself? They’re my parents!”

“So even if they’re wrong, you won’t go against them? What kind of man are you?” Joonmyeon yelled. “I got kicked out of my house for doing what was right, but at least I stood up for what I believed!”

“I love my parents, Joonmyeon, even if they’re wrong,” Yifan said, and Joonmyeon started sobbing. He turned around in frustrated and started walking away, but Yifan followed him still. “Joonmyeon, please. You’re important to me.”

“Obviously not important enough,” Joonmyeon spat, stopping in his tracks. They stood silently for a moment. “So what now? You’re going to dump me because your parents don’t like that we’re dating?”

“No!” Yifan cried. “Joonmyeon, you’re important to me. I don’t want to dump you.”

“So you’ll go against your parents?” Joonmyeon asked, looking hopeful, but Yifan bit his lip. He couldn’t very well go against his parents, not when they’d been so good to him and Amber for their entire lives. Joonmyeon’s head dropped. “I guess this is it, then,” Joonmyeon sighed. He wiped the tears from his face as Yifan stood there, dumbstruck. “I had fun, Yifan. Thank you.” He took Yifan’s face in his hands and pulled Yifan’s face down to meet his. Joonmyeon stood on his tiptoes and kissed Yifan sweetly and lovingly and so unfairly before pulling away. He continued walking down the street without so much as a goodbye or a wave or a smile.

He’d just walked away from Yifan, like every other one of Yifan’s boyfriends had.

So why did it hurt so much more this time?

 

 

 

 

Yifan couldn’t stop thinking about Joonmyeon. He told his parents that he wasn’t seeing Joonmyeon anymore, and they seemed satisfied. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about the perfect man he’d known for over a year. He’d loved him for that long, too. He had. He’d loved Joonmyeon. He still loved Joonmyeon, despite what his parents said.

A week after the whole fiasco, Amber called Yifan for the first time in months.

“You get your ass over to Joonmyeon’s house and make up with him right now!” she screeched as soon as Yifan answered.

“But Ba and Ma—”

“No, Yifan! Who cares? They’re our parents. They should support you through this. They’re in the wrong here. I’ll call them too, but Yifan, you have to tell them that you love Joonmyeon. I know you do. And he’s been moping, okay? He loves you too! You need to be together. You guys were made for each other, I know it.”

“I don’t want to be disowned,” Yifan frowned, but he knew his sister was right.

“You think they’d really disown you? And even if they do, they’ll miss you eventually. Is it really worth giving up Joonmyeon for that?” she demanded.

“No!” Yifan cried. “I miss him, Amber. Do you really think he’ll take me back?”

“Yes, if you convince him well that you’re serious about him. And when he trusts you again, please tell me you’re going to propose.”

“I think Ba and Ma’s heads would explode,” Yifan admitted. He could imagine breaking the news. They might try to kill him.

“Well, too bad for them, then, because you two are going to live happily ever after. I’ll support you even if they don’t. I’ve always supported you because you’ve always supported me.”

“Thanks, Amber,” Yifan sighed. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. Just go over and beg if you have to.”

“Okay,” Yifan said. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

 

 

 

 

Yifan went over to Joonmyeon’s apartment the next day without warning. He pressed the buzzer once, twice, until Joonmyeon answered the door slowly.

“You came,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. “I wondered if you would.”

“I miss you,” Yifan said frantically. “Can I—can I come inside?” Joonmyeon took a deep breath in and breathed it out heavily.

“Sure,” he said, as if it was very hard for him to speak. He stepped aside, letting Yifan into his apartment. It was spic and span, as usual, but it wasn’t the same as when Joonmyeon wore his bright smile. They’d had sex for the first time only four months before, in that very apartment, and Joonmyeon had been over the moon. Yifan had been too, but for some reason, the whole feel of the apartment was completely different.

They sat down in Joonmyeon’s living room, Joonmyeon in a chair and Yifan on the loveseat—the one they’d shared many times.

“Can I say something before you start?” Joonmyeon asked, and Yifan nodded. Joonmyeon breathed again. “I went through hell and back when I came out to my parents, and I was wrong to expect that you would handle it any better than I did. But Yifan, I have enough self-respect to walk away from someone who won’t stand up for me.” He eyed Yifan seriously, making eye contact with him for the first time since Yifan had shown up at the door.

“I told my parents,” Yifan said. “I told them that they were wrong. My father slapped me. I told them that I was coming here, that I loved them and respected them but I was lost without you. My mother cried. They told me to get out of the house and I yelled at them that that’s what I was going to do—I was coming to you, instead.”

“Because I’d accept you,” Joonmyeon surmised, and Yifan shook his head sheepishly.

“I don’t expect you to, after what I did, but…I really was hoping you would. I’ve never cared about breaking up with anyone before you. But honestly, Joonmyeon, I don’t know what to do without you. I swear I’ll treat you right, no matter what anyone else says. I love you. I really really love you.”

“I love you too,” Joonmyeon whispered, a hint of a smile on his face. “I was thinking you’d come back to me, just that you’d take a little time.” He stood up and walked over to Yifan, sitting next to him.

“I’m so sorry,” Yifan said, pressing kisses into Joonmyeon’s hair. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Joonmyeon replied, leaning up into Yifan. “And I’m sorry too. I overreacted. I love you.” Yifan pulled his tiny, beautiful boyfriend close, kissing him deeply. It felt so good, like sunshine peeking through the clouds after a violent hurricane. He loved Joonmyeon, and Joonmyeon loved him.

Yifan stayed at Joonmyeon’s that night, spoiling him with kisses and skittering touches and much more.

It was in the morning, when he woke up with Joonmyeon sleeping soundly in his arms, that he decided he was going to ask Joonmyeon to marry him.

 

 

 

 

“That was a really cute story,” Jongdae drawled, “but we did not need the details about you having sex. We don’t want to imagine that.” His two brothers laughed, and their parents did too, more happy to see a smile on Baekhyun’s face than anything.

“But the moral of the story is,” Joonmyeon spoke up, “that if you find someone you really love, other people will support you. And if they don’t, their opinions shouldn’t matter.”

“Wait, but Yeye and Nainai are always so happy to see us!” Chanyeol interrupted. “I thought they reacted badly!”

“They did, at first,” Yifan said, “but they warmed up to us after a while. It took them a long time and a lot of convincing from Aunt Amber, but they eventually gave in.” Joonmyeon smiled, patting Baekhyun’s knee comfortingly.

“So that means that people will accept you if they love you. And we’ll always accept you and always love you no matter what,” Joonmyeon told him.

“Us too!” Chanyeol said, and Jongdae nodded. Baekhyun smiled at his fathers and brothers.

“Thanks,” he said. “I feel a lot better, really.” He gave Joonmyeon a hug, and then Chanyeol and Jongdae joined in, beckoning Yifan to do so as well, until they were in a group hug and they all ended up in laughter. It was typical of the Wu-Kim family.

 

 

 

 

All the kids were back at the family home for Christmas. Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Jongdae, Kyungsoo, Zitao, Jongin, and Sehun were all attending university, and the other three had already graduated, but Yifan and Joonmyeon made it a rule that everyone had to come back home for Christmas.

Mi and Kyuhyun evidently made the same rules for their children, and so on Christmas Eve, they were all gathered in the Wu-Kim family’s spacious living room.

Tensions were high, though, and everyone except Victoria knew why.

Yixing had practiced for that night probably hundreds of times. He’d bought the ring almost three weeks ago. He had his parents’ blessing, Victoria’s parents’ blessing, and the blessings of all the siblings.

Now all he needed was Victoria’s. But of course, she was completely clueless and had no idea what was going on.

“Baba,” she said soothingly, sitting down next to her father, “loosen up. These are your friends we’re with, not strangers with shark teeth. Don’t you think he seems tense, Appa?” she asked her other father, and everyone in the room laughed nervously.

“Uh,” Sehun spoke up awkwardly, “guess what? I got a ninety-nine on my last Chinese test.” Everyone congratulated him wholeheartedly—somewhat overenthusiastically—but Victoria seemed satisfied and she smiled.

Yixing whispered in her ear and she perked up with a smile, allowing herself to be discreetly led out of the room by Yixing.

The two quietest children, Minseok and Sungmin, went to go secretly watch them as the others waited with bated breath.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Zitao whispered, looking more excited than anyone. He’d always been a romantic. “I think she will.”

They didn’t have to worry, though, because they heard a squeal and then loud cheers coming from Minseok and Sungmin. Several seconds later, the happy couple returned to the living room, where Victoria proudly showed off her new ring with the widest grin.

“Ah!” she cried, finally sitting down, still smiling brightly. “Now I want to hear the parents’ wedding stories!” Mi and Kyuhyun smiled.

“Listen to Yifan and Joonmyeon’s wedding story. Their wedding was really sweet,” Kyuhyun smiled, and Mi nodded enthusiastically.

“Tell them the story!” Mi prompted, and Yifan sighed with a laugh.

“Okay, okay,” he said.

 

 

 

 

Yifan proposed at the café they’d met at so long ago. He’d considered lots of places—the hotel where Amber had gotten married, the bookstore he’d seen Joonmyeon in that one time, the bar where Joonmyeon had been drunk—but in the end, the café was the most romantic and meaningful. Joonmyeon had shrieked in delight and the barista had congratulated them with free coffee and biscotti. It rained on their way back to Yifan’s apartment, but it reminded them of the first time they’d been at the café together, and it was just perfect.

They weren’t being married in a church, but there was a priest there nonetheless. Joonmyeon and Yifan preferred the place they were getting married to a church, anyway. It was a botanical garden, and the inside had a beautiful hall with lots of plants and trickling water. It seemed much more appropriate and enjoyable than the somber walls of a church.

They got ready for the wedding together. It was untraditional, but so was the fact that they were two men marrying each other. They both wore suits—not tuxedos—just plain, black suits with a white rose in the lapel.

“You look gorgeous,” Yifan smiled, kissing Joonmyeon’s cheek.

“So do you,” Joonmyeon laughed. “To be fair I’m pretty sure we both always look gorgeous.” Yifan laughed happily before brushing his fingers through Joonmyeon’s soft hair in silence.

“Are you sad that your parents aren’t coming?” Yifan asked quietly.

“I’m sad they never accepted me, but I’m glad they’re not here to ruin the mood,” Joonmyeon replied. “Are you sad your parents aren’t coming?”

“Yes,” Yifan nodded against his fiancé’s head. “I really wish they’d found it in their hearts to be here.”

“At least they sent their well-wishes,” Joonmyeon said, looking up at Yifan. “And anyway, the people who have supported us are here. Jiyeon and Kaeul, Amber and Henry, Kyuhyun and Mi, and they even brought little Sungmin. Small but good.”

“Small but good,” Yifan smiled, kissing Joonmyeon’s other cheek. Joonmyeon placed his lips against Yifan’s cheeks in return, and they pulled back, smiling at each other. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready since the day I met you,” Joonmyeon grinned.

They stepped out of their side room and into the hallway. “Are you sure you’re ready?” Yifan asked again, and Joonmyeon punched him in the arm.

“Are you getting cold feet already?” he demanded with a laugh, and Yifan shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” They stepped into the hall where all the guests were waiting, and they walked down the aisle together. Yifan smiled to himself as he could hear Amber sobbing behind him while the priest tried to read their vows, and he was happy. She really cared, and she really had supported him through all this.

And Joonmyeon. Joonmyeon looked beautiful, just like he had on that fateful day almost three years before. Yifan loved him, more than anything.

“I do,” Yifan said proudly, and Joonmyeon echoed him with a bright smile.

“You may now kiss your husband,” the priest said, and Yifan and Joonmyeon did.

 

 

 

 

“And you lived happily ever after, right?” Zitao asked excitedly. Yifan chuckled, pulling his husband close into his side with a smile.

“Right,” Joonmyeon replied, kissing Yifan on the cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm excited to be revisiting this au and I hope everyone can support it on AO3 as much as they did on LJ! Originally posted as an exoforsichuan win for hipployta on LJ.


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